


I'll Take Both the Good Days and the Bad Days, So As Long As They're With You

by kapplebougher



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Relationship, Depressed Even, Even Bech Næsheim Loves Isak Valtersen, Even's Birthday, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Birthday, Humor, Isak and his mother, Isak's childhood, Loving Isak Valtersen, M/M, Male/Male, Protective Isak, Sick Isak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:21:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kapplebougher/pseuds/kapplebougher
Summary: After a few quiet minutes of this — Even smoothing the wet washcloth over Isak’s face, gently massaging small circles on Isak’s back, briefly pausing now and then to pepper Isak’s wet face with kisses — he could hear Isak’s ragged breathing steady a little. He thought he had achieved in getting Isak to fall asleep, but then Isak spoke, his voice so soft that Even almost missed it:“You remind me of my mom.”---- ---- ---- ----A brief glimpse into Isak and Even's life together within the SKAM universe as they navigate the harder days, the birthdays, the sick days, among others. Will try to stay as faithful to the show and its timeline as possible.Each chapter is a completed story of it's own, and doesn't need the reading of the chapters prior to it!(Excerpt in summary from Ch 3)





	1. The Hard Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even is experiencing a depressive episode, and Isak finds himself torn between staying with Even and going to school. Intended to take place roughly a month after Isak and Even moved in together.

**MANDAG**

**07:45**

 

Isak knew that it was going to be one of the bad days the minute he opened his eyes this morning.

Even was a morning person. He always woke up before Isak did, usually before eight or nine. This was a phenomenon that, even after nearly six months of being together, Isak still did not completely comprehend. He had no idea how Even did it. Waking up by one’s own will before eight in the morning while still maintaining the ability to function with the full alertness and energy that Even always had was a feat that Isak had yet to understand (and did not he think he ever would).

Every morning Even was always up and about, whistling along to the radio, either making breakfast or getting ready for the day and bustling about with the same amount of vitality and energy in him that Even would have had at a party. Meanwhile, Isak could barely muster the energy to put on new clothes every morning. He would probably sleep past 15:00 if he could get away with it (he never could. Neither Eskild nor Even ever let him).

Not that Isak was complaining, of course. Waking up to a humming Even in the kitchen— _their_ kitchen— shirtless and making eggs certainly made Isak’s mornings _much_ more tolerable. It was something he could definitely get used to.

But today wasn’t one of those days. Today was going to be a hard one.

When Isak awoke this morning, there weren’t any sounds or smells drifting in from the kitchen. Their shared apartment had a lifeless stillness about it, save for the sound of the showering rain outside their bedroom window. He turned his head slightly and saw that Even was still lying next to him in bed. He was awake, but his blue eyes were blank and unfocused, staring out the window.

Isak’s stomach oozed with guilt. This was his fault. He should have never let Even talk him into watching _Romeo and Juliet_ last night. But Even had been a little down all day, and Isak didn’t have the heart in him to turn Even down. Isak should have been smarter. He should have tried to convince Even to watch something more lighthearted instead. He should have remembered that that movie hit closer to home for Even than Even would ever admit. Isak had even seen the signs—how quiet Even got during the movie (and Even was never quiet during a movie— _especially_ a Baz Luhrmann movie). How Even had gone to bed earlier than usual, how he hadn’t eaten much of his dinner. How he hadn’t been humming, hadn’t been making his teasing jokes, how he hadn’t even bothered to turn out the lights before getting in bed...

Isak felt sick. He had seen the signs, so why he hadn’t done anything to help Even? He had just thought—or hoped, rather—that Even had just been tired last night, that he’d had a long day and would be better in the morning. And the truth was, sometimes Even _was_ better in the morning. But sometimes, Even wasn’t better in the morning. And Isak should have noticed that it was one of those times. That it was something more. Isak should have done something.

Isak glanced at the clock. If they didn’t get ready soon, they’d be late for school.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on Even’s cheek. “Hi,” he breathed. “God morn.”

Even blinked once, and then twice, and then his blue eyes flickered over to Isak’s. “Hi,” he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

But Isak took that as a good sign. At least he was responding. When it came to the hard days there were the better ones, and then the okay ones. The days when Even didn’t even have the energy to respond were the worst kind.

Even even gave a small smile, probably solely for Isak’s benefit, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

This was always one of the worst parts of Even’s depressive episodes—the absence of Even’s smiles. Even’s smile was one of Isak’s favorite things about his boyfriend. It was, after all, one of the first things about Even that had sent Isak plunging head-first in love with him. And that was because Even’s smile was beautiful. Isak had no other way to describe it. It was infectious, it was usually followed by a laugh, and it lit up his face in a way that always, _always_ had Isak smiling back, no matter how hard Isak would try and fight it. It was like the sun. And when Even didn’t have that light in his eyes, Isak’s world always seemed starkly darker.

Isak would do anything to get that smile back on his boyfriend’s face. He just didn’t know how.

He rubbed his thumb over Even’s cheek. “We should get ready soon,” he said softly. “Or we’ll be late for class.”

Even looked away and didn’t answer. Isak knew by now that that meant that Even didn’t plan on going to school today.

But now Isak was torn. He couldn’t miss any more days of school—he’d already fucked up his ten percent a good amount. In the back of his mind he’d always vaguely wondered how Even got away with missing as much school as he did, but Isak never questioned it. Even never seemed to get in any trouble for it, nor did he ever seem bothered by it, so it never seemed important. Besides, Even’s attendance had become fairly stable once he’d started dating Isak, but there were still the occasional days where he’d decided that it would be best to just stay home for the day. Unfortunately, Isak did not think he could get away with missing class like Even could. His workload was steadily piling up and exams were approaching, and he was already starting to fall a little behind as it was.

But Isak also hated, _hated_ leaving Even when he was like this. He felt obligated to stay with him until he was better. He wasn’t living at the Kollektivet anymore, so he could no longer ask Eskild, Linn, or Noora to check in on Even throughout the day.

He hated feeling so helpless when Even was down like this. He wished he could reach into Even’s brain and open the blinds and let the sun back in and remind him that everything would be alright. It seemed that the least Isak could do as Even’s boyfriend was to at _least_ keep him company.

But he had a biology exam later this week…

 _Fuck your exam,_ a voice in his head reprimanded him. _Don’t you think Even is more important than some exam? What kind of boyfriend are you? How can you leave him like this?_

Isak briefly speculated the possibility of bribing his principal. Could he somehow get his ten percent pushed to fifteen instead?

“I hope you know,” Even’s quiet voice broke him from his internal warfare. “that just because _I’m_ not going today doesn’t mean you get to skip, too.”

Isak scowled. “Why not? It’s _my_ attendance. My choice.”

Even chuckled, and for a brief moment the corners of his lips lilted upwards with a smile that almost reached his eyes. He reached out his hand and ran his fingers through Isak’s fringe and pushed it back. Reaching down with his thumb, he flattened out the crease that had formed between Isak’s eyebrows before resting his palm on Isak’s cheek.

“Isak,” he said his voice soft but firm, “you can’t put your life on hold for me every time I’m down.”

“Why not?” Isak retorted immediately, defensive. “Of course I can. I want to.”

Even shook his head slightly. “You know you can’t.  You’re second year, your education is important. You would want the same for me.”

Isak didn’t know what to say to that. That wasn’t fair. He knew, deep inside, that Even was probably speaking the truth. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or agree with it, for that matter.

“I’ll be okay,” Even went on. “Just…tired.”

Isak gazed at Even. Just speaking to Isak seemed to have taken all his energy. He looked pale and worn out and small, looking disconcertingly vulnerable. Like the tiniest thing could hurt him.

 _Maybe, I’ll just wait for Even to fall asleep again_ , Isak compromised with himself. _Then, I’d only miss my first class and I’d still get to take notes in biolo—?_

“ _Go_ ,” Even encouraged a little louder when Isak didn’t move, giving his shoulder a slight shake. “I can't...it makes me feel like shit to know that you’re missing class because of me."

Isak didn't move.

"Don’t worry, " Even said, his voice getting softer and softer. "I’ll be here when you come back.”

Isak let out a frustrated sigh. He hated this. He _hated_ this.

He leaned in and kissed Even, cautious to be as gentle as he possibly could while trying to convey thousands of unsaid words into the kiss at the same time.

 _I wish I could stay here with you forever_.

Isak pulled away slightly and rubbed the tips of their noses together. Even’s eyes fluttered closed.

And for a brief tranquil moment, time seemed to still. It was just them.

Just him and Even alone, together. Forehead against forehead, fingers interwoven into the other’s hair, arms and legs tangled beneath their sheets, keeping each other warm in the quiet gray light of a drizzly morning, the entire apartment silent apart from the sound of the rain falling against their bedroom window to keep them company in their little world. Here, they were safe and free of any concern. Nothing could find them or hurt them here.

 

“Sleep,” Isak whispered after a bit.

“Mmm,” Even said in reply.

“Make sure you eat something. Don’t forget like last time.”

Even nodded, eyes still closed. “Okay.”

“I get out at 15:35. I’ll come here straight after.”

“That’s chill.”

Isak waited a solid minute till Even’s breathing slowed to a steady rhythm before forcing himself to get up.

 “Just take it minute by minute,” He whispered. He was pretty sure Even had fallen asleep and couldn’t even hear him, but he said it all the same.

But to Isak’s surprise, Even’s eyes opened, and — _there it was_ — a brief glimmer of Even’s smile lit up his entire face before he shut his eyes again. It was fleeting, but it was all Isak needed.

“Minute for minute,” Even agreed.

 

Isak gave a relieved smile.

Even would be okay.


	2. The Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's birthday is just around the corner, and Isak has absolutely no idea what to get him.  
> (A slight continuation of Ch 1, but you don't need to read Ch 1 to read this one!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Even's birthday is actually the 12th of February, but I'm also half using this chapter as a lighter continuation of the previous chapter in which Isak and Even have already moved in together, so lol for the purposes of this chapter just imagine that Even's birthday is either sometime in late April/early May (or you could just imagine that Isak and Even moved in together sometime late January.

In the end, Isak had Vilde to thank for giving him the idea. Not that he’d ever admit it to her, of course. She’d never let him forget it.

He’d been stressing about Even’s birthday for weeks at this point. At first, Isak’s main concern lay within the birthday party that he was apparently expected to throw.

Sure, Isak had planned on throwing a small little gathering with some close friends, and sure, Isak had hosted pre-games before, but not _birthday parties_ , and throwing a birthday party was wildly different from any type of party he was used to throwing on her own. Besides, back at the Kollektivet, Eskild, Noora and Linn were the true party hosts. From their Christmas gatherings to the small Kossegruppa get-togethers, they knew what to do - how to hang decorations, where to place them, where and when lights were needed, or what type of lights were needed, and they always knew what types of drinks and snacks to have. Isak never helped with the planning or preparations, he usually just did what they told them to do when setting up and helped clean up when it was over. 

As far as he was concerned, as long as there was beer, he was happy. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case for Even's birthday.

But this problem quickly found a solution in the unexpected form of Magnus. Upon hearing about Isak’s struggles, Magnus had inexplicably decided to wholeheartedly take the responsibility of throwing Even a birthday party on his shoulders.He knew just about as much as Isak in the birthday party throwing department, but at least he was  _passionate_ about it, and Isak took what he could get.

Isak felt slightly guilty in that as Even’s boyfriend, _he_ should probably be the one mainly planning the party, but Isak also knew that he was complete shit when it came to party planning. He decided that it was probably in Even’s best interest to let Magnus handle this.

Besides, it wasn’t like Magnus was completely on his own. Once Vilde had gotten ahold of the idea, she, like her boyfriend, had also decided to completely devote herself into the preparations. The addition to Vilde to the party planning group was an alarming development, however: while the vast knowledge she had on hosting events was helpful,   the amount of detail she had planned into the party seemed more appropriate for a wedding than a birthday.

“You only turn twenty once, Isak,” she had told him disapprovingly when he told her this. “That’s a _huge_ deal! Don’t you want Even to feel special?”

And Isak wanted to tell her that  _of course_ he wanted Even to feel special, he would do anything for Even because his boyfriend deserved it and more, but did she _really_ think that Even cared about the color of the napkins?

But even with Vilde's meticulous planning, Isak gratefully found that her addition to the Even-birthday-planner group resulted with not much planning on his own end of the deal. All he had to do was nod, agree, or randomly choose between two options whenever Vilde started asking him questions, and most everything was taken care of.

But now, Isak had to move onto more important issues on his mind. And this was something he couldn’t push onto anyone else this time - this had to be all him. Birthdays called for parties, but also they usually called for presents. And Isak was also conveniently shit at coming up with good presents.

What the _hell_ was he supposed to get Even? It seemed hardly right to get him something normal, like a new video game or clothes — that was the kind of stuff that friends got friends, and Even was so much more than that. Even deserved something more, and as his boyfriend, Isak felt that he had to give him that. He just had no fucking idea how.

To get some ideas, he’d asked around to all his friends for suggestions, but they left him just as clueless (if not more) as he’d been before he’d asked them.

“ _Just get him something that would mean a lot to him_ ,” Jonas had said. “ _It’ll come to you. Don’t worry._ ”

“ _Hell if I know,_ ” Madhi had laughed. “ _Besides, your best guess is probably better than mine. Aren’t you supposed to be his boyfriend?_ ”

Magnus on the other hand, continued to show great skill in his ability to always leave Isak in either a state of concern for his friend or utter disbelief when he suggested that Isak write a poem for Even.

Isak stared at his friend. “A poem,” he repeated, incredulous. “A _poem_? You want me to write a poem? Magnus, who the fuck do you think I _am_?”

“He makes you drawings, doesn’t he?” Magnus had defended his idea.  “And you would write him poems in return. Even would love it! He went to Bakka, didn’t he? Everyone at Bakka’s into the creative arts there. I’ll bet he’s into that whole thing. And poems are all deep and everything. Besides, Vilde loves that kind of cute shit.”

Unfortunately, Isak had a feeling that Even and Vilde were vastly different in their tastes.

Besides, what the hell would Isak write in a poem, anyway? He wasn't good with words and writing. And somehow, he didn't think he would be able to convey what Even meant to him in a card.

_Dear Even,_

_Fucking hell, I love you._

_Happy birthday!_

_Love,_

_Isak_

 

Even was the creative on in their relationship. Isak could barely draw a person to look different from a tree — much less write a fucking _poem_.

Sana displayed her strength as one of Isak’s smarter friends by suggesting that Isak make mini film for Even, seeing as Even had used to make his own films back in his Bakka days. And Isak honestly knew no bigger fan for films than his boyfriend. There probably wasn’t a movie Even hadn’t seen.

In the beginning, this had seemed like a good idea, but the prospect of actually making a movie and having Even see it — Even, whose knowledge of film culture Isak could barely even _skim_ the surface of — began to become more daunting than Isak was ready for. Isak didn’t know the first thing about making movies. What would he even make his film about? _Even_ was the one who could make movies, not Isak. How could Isak, someone who knew shit about movies, make one for Even, who probably knew more about filmmaking than Baz Luhrmann himself? He would completely humiliate himself.

At this point, Isak was starting to get frantic. Even’s birthday was in a week. In his desperation, Isak had even gone as far as to texting and asking Eskild in asking for present suggestions. This idea however, was rapidly made clear to be an immense mistake on Isak’s part — Eskild had responded with a link that took Isak to a website that sold an alarming variety of very disturbing and exotic sex toys.

Now, Even’s birthday was in two days. Isak was getting to the point where he was actually beginning to consider Magnus’  ridiculous poem idea when Vilde had approached him and the boys at lunch with the proposition another Kossegruppa event. Isak hadn’t paid attention to much of what she was saying — to be completely honest, he’d usually tuned Vilde out when she went on her fervent and fanatical Kossegruppa rants, but then—

“…but we’re going to need to make a video to promote the event,” she was saying. “Do any of you know anyone that’s good with video editing?”

Isak knew that Even probably knew a lot about video editing, but had just silently decided that he wouldn’t throw Even under the bus for this one when the idea hit him like a brick. The perfect present. Isak couldn't believe it had taken him so long to realize it. He'd been looking at this from the wrong angle - quite literally.

Of course _Isak_ couldn’t make films.

But Even could.

 

 

  **FREDAG**

**00:37**

 

Isak waited till after the party to give Even the present.

It had gone wonderfully and very smoothly — thanks to the passion of Magnus, the help of Mahdi and Jonas, and the down-to-the-detail planning Vilde had done. Linn, Eskild, Noora, Eva, and Sana had all even volunteered to come to help out beforehand. Isak barely had to do anything but help them set up the decorations and let it all unfold.

And the best part was, Even _loved_ it. He was laughing and smiling the entire time, absolutely in his best condition. Isak could hardly believe that it was the same seemingly small, tired and depressed boy who’d curled up for hours under the blankets last week because he didn’t have to energy to move.

The only thing that had driven Isak a little crazy about the party was the lack of actually _being_ with Even. They lived with one another, but Isak had still barely seen Even all week—Isak had had exams Monday and Tuesday; Wednesday night he’d had dinner with his family and the last couple days had been filled with party planning. Even had been very busy with school as well, catching up on the classes he’d missed from last week and working picking up extra shifts at Kaffebrenneriet so he could take off for the weekend. And by the time they'd gotten home, the most they had the energy to do was curl up into on another before they passed out. Isak hadn’t even physically _seen_ Even during all morning on his birthday because he’d been given strict orders from Vilde to kick Even out to go see his parents so that they could decorate their flat.

But now that they were both finally free and together tonight, all the small gestures and movements between them had amplified effects. Every casual touch that Even laid on his arm or his back or his thigh or over his shoulder during the party, every smile or wink or smirk he’d send Isak’s way, or every occasional peck on the cheek was starting to drive Isak a little crazy. They'd been dating for a few months now and they were even _living_ together, but every lingering look or touch sent shoots of electricity to his brain, making every thought in his brain short-circuit. Although he felt slightly guilty considering all the hard work his friends had put into the party, he had actually began to look _forward_ to the end of the festivity so that he and Even could finally be alone (not that he’d ever dare to tell Vilde, who might have actually suffocated him with one of the napkins she'd specifically sough out if he did).

When Isak had finally got the last person to leave (it was Eskild, and Isak had to practically shove the giggly, tipsy guru out the door), he turned around to find Even sprawled on the couch, looking a little tired but cheerful. Even reached out a hand to Isak, and he pulled Isak down on top of him when he took it, wrapping his long arms around him so that Even's chest was flush with Isak’s back.

 Isak leaned his head back onto Even's shoulder. “You’re twenty now,” he smirked. “How does it feel?”

Even groaned and buried his face into Isak’s neck. “Nei _,_ don’t remind me. It makes me feel so _old_.”

Isak laughed, sinking into Even further and closing his eyes. They settled into silence for a few moments, slightly worn out from the party and enjoying each other’s warmth. And Isak was perfectly content, to be in Even's arms. If he was honest, he'd stay there forever if he could.

“That was really, really nice of you,” Even murmured into his neck after a bit. “This party. Thank you. I haven’t...really had a real birthday party in a long time.”

"Nei?"

"Nei. Last year, I didn't really even celebrate."

Isak turned his head slightly. “Well this one's not over yet. I haven’t given you _my_ present.”

Even looked confused. “I thought this party _was_ your present?”

 “Nei, nei, this party was all Vilde and Magnus.” Isak snorted. “Do you really think I could have done all this on my own? My present’s in the kitchen.”

He felt Even lift his head. “The kitchen? Did you learn how to finally cook for my birthday?”

“Ha, ha,” Isak rolled his eyes. “Ja, the kitchen. But it’s not food. Come on.”

Even looked more confused than ever, but he took Isak’s hand and followed him into the kitchen.

Isak reached into the one drawer they only used to keep miscellaneous things. The two of them hardly used it, so he’d hid his present there right before the party, knowing Even wasn't likely to look in it. Isak pulled out the carefully wrapped present (which had taken him a good fucking 20 minutes, by the way - as it turned out, Isak was just as terrible at wrapping presents as he was at trying to come up with them). He handed the yellow package it to Even. Suddenly, Isak was very nervous. 

Even raised his eyebrows as he felt the present in his hands. “This is heavy,” he noted with surprise. He began to pull at the tape and the folds. “What is it?”

“You’ll see?” Isak had tried to sound enigmatic, but through his nervousness it came out sounding like a question.

Even gave Isak one last curious glance before pulling the final large piece of wrapping paper free from the tape. The coverings fell open, revealing the box underneath.

Even’s mouth fell open.

Isak panicked.

Even so rarely looked shocked at anything—he always took everything in stride, making everything look natural and effortless, like everything that happened to him was meant to happen—but right now, Even was shocked. Isak could see it, clear as day on his face. His eyes were fixated on the picture of the sleek, black camera on the box.

Even looked at Isak, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he said in a strangled voice, “This—this is the—this _costs_ —?!“

“Don’t worry about the price,” Isak interjected quickly. “It’s not important.”

Even gawked at the camera, then at Isak. When thirty seconds went by and Even still hadn’t said anything, Isak apparently decided that it was the prime time to lose his fucking mind, and he began to ramble in panic:

“I got it with my Christmas money. I had a lot from that and also my birthday money last year and I really didn’t need the money, because you know my dad helps me with rent and food and stuff—all I ever used it for was weed, anyway, you know that—besides, I don’t even know if I got the right brand—I’m shit when it comes to knowing this stuff, I’ve never been very creative—but the guy at the store said it was one of the newer models, it’s a DSLR—but I don’t even know what the fuck that means?—and I’m not sure if it’s the one _you_ want, you probably know way more than I do, because there were ones that were easier to carry around and now that I think about it I just realized that I’m an idiot and I probably should have gotten you the other kind, do you want to go exchange it tom—?” Isak broke off his nonsensical ramblings mid-word when Even shook his head ever so slightly. Whether in disbelief or horror, Isak wasn't entirely sure.

“Isak…” Even let out an unsteady breath. “I can’t...I can’t take this. This kind of stuff is worth like, over 4500 kroner—”

“Don’t think about the price,” Isak said firmly, and he meant it. “It’s Christmas money. I wasn’t using it, and if I had, I wouldn’t have used it for anything useful. I _wanted_ to do this, Even. Let me do this for you.”

Even still looked completely floored. “Why?”

 “ _Why_? Because it’s your birthday!”

“But…I shouldn’t be…” Even shook his head. “ _I_ should be getting this kind of stuff for _you_ ,” Even told him. “Not the other way around. You already do so much for me.”

Isak held back a sigh. After all this time, Even somehow managed to still think that he wasn’t worth it.

Isak moved closer and placed his hand against Even’s neck. “You should see the way you get when you talk about films,” he told Even softly. “You’re like…it’s when you’re the most…alive, I guess. It’s when you’re the most happy. And I know that you used to make films. And I know you really liked to do it. I thought you could start up again. And…”

Isak hesitated. He wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase what he was going to say next. “And I just thought that…on the days when it’s bad, the days when it gets hard…I thought it might help to, you know. Have something that would help you, like, I don’t know…something that would help you remember why it’s worth it, you know? It would give you a way to have something to create, something to do… I don’t know if it would work. But I thought it might help.”

Even gazed at him. About ten seconds passed in silence. Then, Even slowly turned to the right and gently placed the box and it’s wrappings on the table.

And then his lips were on Isak’s, fervent and intense and hard; his hands gripping Isak’s face to him like a lifeline. Isak was only momentarily stunned before he responded with an equal enthusiasm, allowing himself to stumble backwards, pulling Even along with him until Isak’s back hit the kitchen counter. They broke apart for a brief moment while Isak shoved himself up onto the counter as fast as he could before reaching out and dragging Even back in by his shirt. In the back of his mind Isak vaguely acknowledged that they should probably take this to their bedroom, but…

 _Fuck it_. If Isak was honest, he’d been dying to do this all day. Besides, this was _their_ apartment. They could go at it wherever the hell they wanted, couldn’t they?

He pressed himself up against Even, trying to pull him in as close as possible. Even's hands slid under Isak's shirt and up his back, and before Isak really even knew what was happening his shirt had mysteriously disappeared — a feat in itself, _how_ had Even undone all his buttons that fast —?  And then — _fuck_ — Even’s lips were on Isak’s neck, the pressure warm and hot and Isak’s hands were in Even’s hair, and then Even’s shirt was gone, and someone was starting to unzip something and—

“ _Faen_ , wait—” Even panted, pulling away. “Wait, wait.”

Isak, dazed and disoriented, blinked up at Even. “Huh?” was all he could manage to get out.

 “I, uh…” Even blinked rapidly, like he was trying very hard to remember how to speak. His pupils were so enlarged that his blue eyes looked dark, his cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily. Isak was pretty sure that he probably looked just as wrecked as Even. “I, uh, was supposed to tell you…something.”

“ _Right_ now?”

Even breathed a laugh and leaned in again until their foreheads touched. For a few moments the both of them were quiet, waiting for their racing hearts to slow down and their breathing to steady out.

“I wanted to say, before I forgot,” Even said slowly after a bit, “Thank you. For your present. It’s too much. It’s amazing. I don’t know how to even—it’s the best thing I’ve ever…thank you.”

Isak smiled and tilted his head up, grazing his lips against Even’s. “I know that I uh, try to help you. But sometimes I know that I can’t,” he told Even. “Or it’s like, my fault, so I wanted to get something that would help—”

“Isak,” Even pulled away to stare at him, suddenly very stern. “It is _never_ your fault.”

Isak shifted, uncomfortable. “Yeah, but there are times where I could have done a better job at—”

“You can’t stop that,” Even told him. “You _know_ you can’t. When I’m manic or depressed—it isn’t because of you, it never is. Fuck, Isak, if anything—” he pressed his palms onto the sides of Isak’s face. “If anything, you make it so much better. You make it easier to come back.”

Isak swallowed. Emotions swelled in his throat, threatening to burst.

“You have _no fucking idea_ ,” Even breathed, touching his forehead back to Isak’s. “How much better you make it.”

Isak’s emotional state had rendered him incapable of speech, so he responded by closing the little space between their lips with a kiss. Even responded with a blinding smile.

“So what should I make for my first film?” he asked. And then, teasingly, “ _The boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater_?”

Isak rolled his eyes and was coming up with a retort when a thought crossed his mind. He winced. “Actually,” he admitted, “You might have to make that first film for Vilde.”

“...Vilde?”

 “We—or _I_ , I guess—sort of owe her,” Isak groaned. “She sort of gave me the idea of getting you the camera in the first place, and then she and Magnus kinda organized this whole party on their own without me even asking to…it’s really actually my fault. You don’t have to make it for her.”

Even raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Why does she want a film?”

Isak shrugged. “I don’t really know. It’s not really even a film, it’s more like some…fucking promotional video for the Kossegruppa. She was asking me about it earlier.”

“Okay,” Even agreed without hesitation. That was the Even Isak knew, the type of guy who took whatever came his way in his stride, like it was no big deal. “I’ll make Vilde her promo. Then I’ll make a film,” he mused. “Maybe something…something like…”

Isak smirked. “Something like Sarah Palin falling in love with like…Captain America or something?”

Even gave a huff of indignation and laughed. “Excuse me. It was _Putin_.”

But Isak already had his hand on the back of Even’s neck, pulling him in again.

“And I _can_ hold my breath underwater,” he mumbled into Even’s lips, and he felt Even laugh into their kiss. Even was happy, Isak was happy.

Life was fucking _great_.

“Gratulerer med dagen, baby.”

 

 

 

**|| _Gratulerer med dagen_ = “Happy Birthday”||**

**|| _Du er mannen i mitt liv_ = “You’re the man of my life”||**

**|| _Faen_** _= **fuck**_ **||**


	3. The Sick Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak comes down with a fever and Even finds himself being the one to take care of Isak this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intended to take place about a a few weeks after they'd moved into their new apartment. 
> 
> (Also, sidenote: this is literally just all fluff (I kid you not) and I tried not to overdo it but idkkk)  
> (Also, sidenote #2: this is my fic tribute to Isak's passion for the word 'nei')

**Nei** = no 

 **Faen** = fuck

 **Fy faen** = fucking hell

 **Takk** = thank you

 **Koselig 1** = literally means cozy, but also a feeling of being warm/comforting/simple

 **Blomkålsuppe** **2** = common Norwegian cauliflower soup

 **Helvete** **3**  = goddammit

 

**LØRDAG**

**10:34**

“…Isak? What are you doing?”

Even stared at his boyfriend. He had found Isak standing at the kitchen counter, caught in the act of raising a carton of milk above a bowl. This would have been a perfectly normal thing to do - were it not for the fact that Isak had also bizarrely chosen to place his _phone_ inside the bowl before pouring the milk.

Isak froze, the carton of milk suspended in midair. He turned his head blinked at Even a few times, his eyes wide and unfocused. His eyebrows were raised too, like he just as baffled to find himself in the situation he was in as Even was.

Even stepped forward. “You okay?”

Isak blinked rapidly and shook his head. “Uh, yeah, I was just—” and then he cut off, his face contorted into a grimace. He brought the opening of the carton to his nose and sniffed it. “Faen, is this expired?”

Even frowned, leaning forward and smelling it himself. The carton was still practically new, just having opened it yesterday. There was still a considerable amount left, and it smelled fine. “Uh, nei? We bought it just a couple days ago, remember?”

Isak squinted at the milk like it was purposefully deceiving him, and then he shook his head again, mumbling something under his breath that Even didn’t catch. And then — Even had no explanation for what happened next — Isak screwed the cap back on the milk, and placed the entire carton in the sink. He turned the tap on and let the water run over the carton for a few seconds. Then, he proceeded to take the bowl that held his phone, covered it with a lid, and placed it in the fridge. After this spectacular display of events, he calmly strolled out of the kitchen without another word, stumbling a little over the door sill and accidentally ramming his shoulder into the wall his the way out.

Even stared after him, open-mouthed. He had half a mind to start laughing but he was also very confused, and a honestly a little alarmed, too — what the fuck had just happened?

He walked out of the kitchen to find Isak fiddling with the thermostat in the hallway, the tip of his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth and a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked when he saw Even approaching.

Even leaned his shoulder against the wall beside the thermostat and raised his eyebrows at him. “Nei? Are you?”

Isak shrugged a little. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m fucking _freezing_.”

Even was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, but he was comfortable. The temperature of their apartment was fine. It was a little _warm_ , if anything.

But Isak seemed to feel the exact opposite — he was wearing both his jacket _and_ a hoodie underneath. This was a strange choice of clothing in itself because they were indoors, and in room temperature. The most baffling part of all, however, was that Isak had chosen to wear his snapback in addition to the hoodie and the jacket, but had decided not to put any pants on. This resulted with a look where he was fully dressed from the waist-up, but in nothing but boxers waist-down. Like he’d begun to get dressed this morning, but had changed his mind halfway through.

Even watched Isak work with the buttons for a few more seconds, perplexed, before finally deciding to question him.

“Are you drunk?”

“Huh?” Isak looked bewildered.  “Nei _._ Why?”

“Are you high?”

“Nei?”

“Okay...so did you get hit in the head with something, this morning or yesterday at school?”

“Nei!”

Even couldn’t help it—he started to laugh; everything about this situation felt so absurd.

Isak looked just as confused as Even felt, but he half-smiled at Even’s amusement anyway. “What?”

“You’re just all over the place this morning, that’s what.” Even reached out and pulled Isak in by the shoulder. He was just beginning to move his hand to Isak’s jaw and was leaning in to give him a kiss when Even froze. He pulled back, distracted by the unnatural heat radiating from Isak’s cheeks into his palm.

Isak blinked at him in confusion. “What? What’s wrong?”

“ _Fy faen_ , Isak —“ Even moved his hand from Isak's cheek to his forehead, where - _shit_ - his skin was abnormally warm to the touch. “I think you have a fever.”

Isak shook his head, immediately pulling away from Even's grasp. “Nei, nei, I’m fine. Not a fever. Just have a headache, to be honest. Probably still fucking hungover from the party last night.” He gave a little laugh and shrugged, as if to say, _What can you do?_

Even stared at him, unconvinced. “You only had one beer?”

“Yeah, but…” Isak shrugged again. “It’s chill. I’ll be fine.”

“Isak, you have a fever. You need medicine.”

“Nah…” Isak shook it off again. “Not a fever, just a headache. I’m good. I’ll just…sleep it off for a bit and it’ll be gone when I wake up. Don’t worry about me.”

He then gave a little self-confident nod, and took a few precarious steps backwards down the hall. Raising both his hands, he gave Even a double-salute, accidentally walked backwards into the doorframe and rammed his shoulder (again), and all but fell into their bedroom head-first, leaving Even standing completely astounded by his boyfriend for the second time this morning.

Isak was catching a fever, and by the looks of it, he was already starting to get seriously out of it. _He needs medicine,_ he could almost hear his mother telling him in his ear. Even went into the bathroom and opened their medicine cabinet, praying that there was something for fevers there. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave Isak home alone in his current state while Even went out to buy fever medication. But — _thank god_ — there it was, the bottle of fever tablets that he vaguely remembered his mother packing for him when she was helping him move out. He’d told her he wouldn't needed them — he didn’t really ever come down with fevers, and when he did they were never too bad — but his mother had insisted nonetheless. He made a mental note to thank her later as he walked back to their bedroom with the pills.

But upon reaching the bedroom he stopped in his tracks at the door — Isak was already passed out cold. All Even could see of him was a red snapback peeking out from the misshapen lump buried under the blanket. He didn’t have the heart in him to wake Isak up, so he decided to make Isak take the pills when he awoke instead.

Even left and busied himself with the sort of normal household tasks that he and Isak always meant to get around to, but never did, trying to be as quiet as possible to let Isak sleep in peace. He washed the dishes, vaguely tidied up the kitchen, did their laundry, and finally unpacked that one box of items they never got around to unpacking. By then it was noon and Isak hadn't woken up, so Even made some lunch. He tried to occupy his time by watching a movie, but the experience was lonely without having Isak to talk to or curl up with, so he didn't get very far with that. Eventually, he wound up at their kitchen table with some schoolwork. And as he did so, his mind wandered (as it usually did when he was alone) back to Isak.

His excuses of a hangover and a headache to explain his bizarre behavior in the morning and his warm forehead didn’t seem like it added up. His skin couldn’t have been that warm from just a hangover, could it have? He hadn’t even drunk that much last night. Maybe he had a cold.

Even walked by their room again around 14, and Isak was still dead asleep.

What could have possibly made Isak so tired, if it wasn’t a fever? Was he sleeping at night? He remembered Isak briefly mentioning once that he used to have trouble with insomnia in the past, but he hadn’t really elaborated on it much. And Even hadn’t thought to push him for more information because Isak had looked so uncomfortable talking about it. But now, Even felt guilt pooling in his stomach. What if Isak’s insomnia was acting up again, and he hadn’t even noticed? He could have been lying awake all night for _weeks_ now, for all Even knew or had cared to ask.

When the clock turned 16:30 and Isak still hadn’t woken up, Even began to get worried.

He glanced into their bedroom. Isak seemed to not have moved an inch from his original position this morning, completely buried within the blankets with no part of him visible but his snapback. Lightly settling himself on the empty side of the bed, Even touch the lump underneath the sheets. “Hey, you.”

Isak didn’t respond, so Even reached forward and gently pulled the snapback off, revealing Isak’s golden-brown curls and instinctively laced his fingers through them. But as he did so, shock surged through his system— _fuck, fuck, fuck —_ Isak’s scalp was burning hot to the touch, _much_ hotter than what he’d been this morning. He reached over and pulled the blanket down to reveal Isak’s face, and Even felt something drop in his stomach: Isak’s cheeks were flushed, just as hot to the touch as his scalp, and his breathing was ragged. He’d been playing off his illness this morning way more than Even had originally thought — his bizarre behavior this morning wasn’t insomnia or a hangover, Isak had _seriously_ been coming down with a fever, and a really bad one at that _._

Even felt horrible. Shit — _why_ hadn’t he come to the realization to actually check on Isak earlier? He should have gotten Isak to take the medicine before he’d fallen asleep. Now he was so much worse.

He ran back into the bathroom and scourged the medicine cabinet for a thermometer. Another overwhelming rush of gratitude for his mother came when he found it, in a little plastic case near the where the pills had been. He decided that a simple thanks wouldn’t do enough justice — maybe he would make her dinner instead, to show his gratitude. He hurried back to their bedroom and leaned over Isak again.

Even put one hand on his cheek and another on his shoulder and shook him gently. “Isak?”

It took a bit, but eventually Isak’s eyelids flickered and he stirred, a small groan escaping his mouth. His dark green eyes blinked drowsily up at Even. “Where…what time is it?”

“Uh, about sixteen-thirty.”

“ _Sixteen_ -thirty _—_?!”

 “Yeah, you've been asleep almost six hours. You’re really sick. Can you open your mouth?”

Isak obediently obliged Even’s request without much question, although he made a small sound of protest when Even stuck the thermometer under his tongue without warning. Isak didn’t seem to have the energy to pull away though, or move at all, for that matter.

The digital screen gave a high pitch beep five times in a row and then the screen flashed red, the numbers reading _39.5_.

“Jesus, Isak,” Even muttered, worry pooling in his stomach. “You might need to go to the hospital. Your temperature’s really high.”

“ _Nei_ ,” Isak said immediately, and quite strongly for someone who could barely move. He tried to sit up, but he didn't seem to be strong enough to do so. “Nei, nei, nei. I’m fine.”

“Your fever is really high, though…”

“Nei.” He shook his head. As weak as his voice was, he sounded resolute. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Even frowned, taken by surprise by Isak’s sudden passion. “Why not?” Was he scared of hospitals?

“If I get put—sick—hospital…they’ll call my parents and—my mom will find out—or dad will tell her—and she gets stressed…” A violent shiver coursed through him. “I'm not doing that, I can’t—she can’t—I’m serious Even, I can’t, nei—”

“Okay, okay,” Even said quickly, trying to calm him down. He ran his fingers through Isak’s hair. “Okay. You don’t have to go, but then you _have_ to take your medicine. Like, now.”

Isak was quiet. “Okay,” he whispered after a minute, looking spent from the exertion.

By the time Even had returned with the pills and a glass of water, Isak was shivering violently under the blanket again. Even put the pills and water down, and left to grab two more unused blankets from the closet and layered them on top of the first. The addition of the other two blankets piled up on top of each other made Isak look incredibly small and vulnerable on the bed in comparison, and Even felt a pang in his chest.

“Medicine,” he abruptly reminded him, when he realized that Isak looked on the verge of falling asleep again. “But you can go back to sleep as soon as you take it, I promise. Can you sit up?”

Isak nodded weakly and only got as far as to propping himself up onto his elbows before he had to stop, scrunching his eyes shut with the amount of effort it took. 

Even reached out. “Are you okay?”

“Dizzy,” Isak gasped. “ _Faen_ , everything hurts.”

“I’m going to help you up, okay?” Even curled his arm around Isak’s waist — even through his shirt, he could still feel how unnaturally warm Isak’s skin was —and pulled him up and rested Isak’s back against a pillow on the wall. He handed Isak the medicine and the glass of water and anxiously watched the cup in Isak’s hand for a few moments, worried that he might not have enough strength to hold it steady. 

While Isak took the pills, Even hurried back into the kitchen, quickly rummaging through drawers and shelves and cupboards — _what else are you supposed to do for someone who’s sick?_  His mind raced. There was the medicine. Isak was taking it now. There was the matter of food. His mother would always make him soup whenever he was down, but he didn’t think Isak would be able to keep much food down right now. The only other thing he could think of was...

He grabbed a bowl and filled it with water and some ice and threw a washcloth in there. When he had returned to the room, Isak seemed to have taken the medicine and now was clutching the half drunken glass on his lap, breathing raggedly through his mouth and blinking at the wall across from the bed with half-lidded and unfocused eyes and flushed cheeks. Isak looked like hell, but even then, Even couldn't help but notice how beautiful he still looked - his long eyelashes and his _perfect_ lips, the straight nose and high cheekbones and perfectly curled hair...the kind of timeless handsome and elegant features you would expect to see on royalty.

Even placed the bowl of ice water on the nightstand and crawled back in bed beside him, leaning over to place a kiss on Isak’s temple. “Do you want to sleep now?”

In response to this question, Isak gave a noncommittal sort of mumble and leaned into him, resting his head on Even’s arm. Even swallowed, starting to feel guiltier and guiltier by the minute. Isak just looked so… _drained_. So miserable. If Even had just been able to get him to take the medicine just a little earlier…

He found his own arm instinctively curling around Isak, pulling him closer and turning Isak's body slightly on his side, till Isak’s head rested in the crook of Even’s neck. When Isak started to shiver again from the air hitting his exposed skin from when the blankets had slipped down, Even pulled the blankets higher. And then for good measure, he reached down and pulled Isak’s long legs up and over Even’s own legs, hoping his body heat would help Isak warm up.

With every slight movement, Isak groaned in pain from his aching limbs, and with every groan Even felt more and more like the worst boyfriend ever. He should have checked on Isak earlier. Why hadn’t he? Isak had always been so wonderful in taking care of Even exactly whenever he needed it, and now that Even finally had a chance to return the facor, he was already screwing up.

“Faen. Now I’m really hot?” Isak mumbled after a few moments, sounding - bless him - very confused.

Even smiled a little — _this_ was something he could actually help fix. He reached over and grabbed the cold washcloth from the bowl and squeezed the water out of it. Bring it back, he gently pressed it against Isak’s burning hot forehead. A tiny breath of relief escaped from Isak’s mouth as the washcloth made contact with his skin. With his other hand, Even made steady circles on Isak’s back, hoping to coax him back to sleep. Now that Isak had taken his meds, he didn’t want to keep him awake in his miserable condition any longer than he had to.

After a few quiet minutes of this — Even smoothing the wet washcloth over Isak’s face, gently massaging small circles on Isak’s back, briefly pausing now and then to pepper Isak’s wet face with kisses — he could hear Isak’s ragged breathing steady a little. He thought he had achieved in getting Isak to fall asleep, but then Isak spoke, his voice so soft that Even almost missed it:

“You remind me of my mom.”

Even’s fingers stilled on Isak’s spine. Even glanced down, but Isak’s eyes were focused on Even’s hand, which still held the washcloth. Isak rarely talked about his mother willingly, and when he did, it usually wasn’t positive.

“Your mother?” Even asked.

“Mmm.”

A seed of uneasiness stemmed in his stomach, and Even’s mind began to rewind over the past few weeks in top speed. Was he somehow acting in a way that reminded Isak of his mother? But Even had been taking his meds. He hadn’t had an episode in a while…he thought he’d been doing good. He _had_ been good.

Hadn’t he?

Even didn’t want to push the issue — Isak was ridiculously sick and delirious, and he probably had no idea what he was even saying. The last thing Even wanted to do was to distress Isak in his already sick state with talk about his mother…but all the same, Even couldn’t stop himself.

“How so?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

Isak didn’t respond at first, and for a bit Even thought he’d actually fallen asleep. But then he spoke, his voice faint. “Like…she would…do the things that you do.”

Even swallowed. “Yeah?” He put the washcloth back in the bowl to steady his hands.

“Yeah…” Isak shifted his head a little on Even’s shoulder and sighed a little. “The things she did...whenever I got sick.”

 _Wait_.

Even blinked in surprise. That wasn’t the response he’d expected. “Your mom would do this for you when you were sick?” he asked, relieved at the direction this was heading.

Isak hummed affirmatively. "Yeah." His eyes flicked back up to meet Even’s. “She’d put a cold towel and my face and she’d hold me…tell me stories until I fell asleep or sang to me…” his voice trailed off. 

Even smiled. “Yeah?” He ran his thumb over Isak’s brows, smoothing them out. “That sounds nice. Koselig1.”

Isak smiled a little. “Yeah. Koselig.”

Even laughed a little. “So...do you want me to tell you stories or sing to you, too?”

Isak smiled and pressed his nose against Even’s neck. “Nei, you don’t have to…you can just keep talking.”

“Just talk?” Even laughed again. “Like this? About anything?”

“Yeah. Anything, everything…” Isak was quiet for a moment, and then he added quietly, “I like hearing your voice.”

Even tried to hide his surprise at the affectionate remark, but it was hard not to.

It was rare to see Isak so… _unguarded_ , with all his walls down. Normally he was always chill, but also always very collected. The kind of laidback but grounded personality that Even needed to orbit his life around. And every once in a while if Even was lucky, he would get a softer, sweeter version of Isak, usually on early Saturday mornings as they lay in bed together, or late at night in the moments right before Isak fell asleep. But right now there was a certain openness to Isak that Even had never really seen before — he spoke without restrictions and without any of his walls up, about his mom and about his past...topics he would have probably never freely spoken about in a more rational mindset. And Even liked this new Isak, too. He was adorable.

But this new Isak also looked incredibly vulnerable, and he tugged at Even’s heartstrings. Even felt the overwhelming urge to protect this Isak from the world.

“But that was only when I was young,” Isak announced suddenly, breaking Even out of his thoughts.

Even glanced down at him. “What was?”

“The singing and the stories and the wet towel, that…that was only when I was young. Before she got worse.”

“Your mom didn’t take care of you when you were older?” Even tried to imagine what that could have felt like, but it was hard. His own mother had been there for him at every point of his life, whether it was a full blown depressive episode, or a simple knee scrape. There were times she was an absolute lifesaver and times where she couldn't do much for him but to watch over him and make sure he was okay, but to not have that kind of support growing up…

“Nei, I guess, it’s just that…when I got older I could never…she couldn’t really…” Isak shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh—yeah. I just…it was just better that she didn’t know I was sick.”

Even raised his eyebrows. “Why not?” That didn’t sound right. Isak’s mother may have been sick, but she was still his mother. “She's your mother, I think she would have cared.”

“Nei, it's not that she didn't care, she did…but that was the problem, you know?…Because, uh, it was like...she _cared,_ but…too much? When I got older it got to be really bad. She would get really stressed, really, really easily and she would kind of break down...and then when she got stressed, she would take it out on my dad, and then they would argue all night over nothing…so—yeah. I just thought it was best for them — for all of us, really — to not worry about me.”

“But then…” Even frowned, trying to understand. “What did you do whenever you were sick? Hide from your parents?”

Isak gave a bitter chuckle. “I pretended I wasn’t sick,” he said simply. “Or, if it was really bad I just didn’t go home. Spent the night at Jonas’, and I never had to tell my dad why, because he already knew. But I never really stayed there long anyway, because then I’d get Jonas sick, too. Most of the time I kind of just stayed in my room. Avoided them, slept it off...and after my dad left us my mom was really out of it all the time anyway, so she never really even noticed…”

And then suddenly, it all clicked in Even’s mind.

Isak’s insistence this morning at pretending he was fine, the effort he went through to play his fever off, his violent refusal to going to the hospital lest his mother found out…

He imagined a young fourteen year old Isak, sick out of his mind just like he was now, hiding out in his room and pretending he was fine with no one taking care of him or watching him or making him take medicine… _god._ Even’s heart broke for his boyfriend.

“Jeez, Isak,” Even whispered, tightening his hold on him. “That sounds like…shit.”

He felt Isak shrug into him indifferently. “It wasn’t so bad,” he mumbled. “Besides it have all would be worse if my mom found out, so...”

They both fell into silence after that, caught up in their own thoughts. Isak left to reminisce within his memories, and Even was left to marvel at his boyfriend.

He didn’t know how Isak did it. He’d grown up dealing with issues and situations on his shoulders that no kid should’ve ever had to deal with at his age. He’d had a father who’d left his teenage son to care for his ill mother on his own. Even’s own mother was gentle and kind, always willing and understanding with the ups and downs of his own bipolar disorder, but he knew that even _she_ found it taxing sometimes. Even couldn’t even imagine the pressure Isak must have felt, dealing with a situation that he didn’t really understand, all on his own. And then he’d moved out, understandably so, on his own at sixteen.

 _My life is better without people with mental illnesses,_ he’d told Even once. The words still haunted Even’s thoughts sometimes.

But then Isak found out that Even was bipolar. And in a move that never failed to leave Even floored when he thought about it, Isak didn’t leave. And given his past, Isak had had _every_ right to walk away. He knew exactly what he could be getting into, he knew exactly how hard it could be, but he didn’t go. God, he’d _stayed_.

And for that, Even would always owe Isak the world.

“I’m sorry,” Isak said suddenly.

Even stared down at him, incredulous. “For  _what_?”

“I don’t want me getting sick to worry you,” Isak explained. “I don’t want you to...get stressed, too.” His eyes were cast down and — Even couldn’t believe this ridiculous boy — he _actually sounded guilty._

“Fy faen, you’re impossible,” Even laughed, exasperated. He shook Isak a little, pulling him closer. “Isak. You’re _supposed_ to take care of one another when you’re sick. That’s how it works, it’s okay to do that. You always do this for me, don’t you? Please let me do this for you this once.”

Isak sighed and grumbled something unintelligible, but he curled into Even’s neck a little more, his arms reaching out to coil around Evens waist. Even laughed and leaned in, trailing kisses down from Isak’s forehead down to his mouth. He was just leaning in to kiss Isak’s lips — his _perfect_ Cupid’s bow lips, the lips Even could never got enough of — when Isak suddenly jerked away.

“ _Nei_ , you can’t do that — then you’re going to get fucking sick too,” Isak warned, craning his neck back to look up at Even.

Even raised his eyebrows at Isak. “I don’t get sick easily,” he told him. “And if I was going to get sick, I think it’s kind of too late to back out now.” He leaned back down and Isak pulled away a little again.

Even raised his eyebrows. "Come on, you know you want to."

"You'll get  _sick_!"

Even laughed in reply. “I’ll be _fine,_ ” he mumbled against Isak's cheeks. He kissed one corner of Isak’s lips.

“ _Even_ …”

And then Even started to grin, because he could see Isak’s resolve crumbling — one perk of Isak being sick was that he didn’t have the self-control nor the stubbornness that he usually had. He kissed the other corner of Isak’s lips. “Come on.”

Isak groaned, surrendering as Even leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to Isak’s. And who knew, maybe Even was coming down with something too, because kissing Isak slow and deep, even when he was as sick as he was, still felt just as amazing.

After a couple minutes of kissing though, Isak’s face was completely flushed again and looked like he was having trouble breathing, and Even had to forcefully remind himself that regardless of whether or not _he_ got sick, Isak was absolutely not in a condition to be exerting himself like this, so Even made the executive decision to stop for the sake of Isak’s own health. Isak frowned at Even when he finally had the resolve to pull away. 

"Believe me, I'd love to keep going," he told Isak, "But you look like you're going to pass out." He tucked Isak’s head back into the crook of his neck and ran his fingers through Isak’s curls. “You should sleep,” he whispered after Isak’s breathing had steadied again and his face had returned to somewhat of a more normal color. “When you wake up I’ll make you some Blomkålsuppe2. Maybe we can watch a movie. You can pick.”

“Okay,” Isak agreed, his voice thick again with drowsiness. “But...do we even have cauliflowers?”

Even hesitated. “Er, nei. But I’ll make you some anyway.”

Isak gave a quiet laugh and Even felt the heat of Isak’s lips press against Even’s neck. “Takk,” Isak said softly.

Even replied with another kiss to Isak’s forehead.

And it was as they lay there, with their legs tangled under three sets of blankets and Isak entwined in Even’s arms, with his head fitted in the crook of Even’s neck so perfectly, that Even realized that he would be perfectly content just lying here, holding Isak, for the rest of his life. So maybe Even was a little uncomfortably warm, and maybe Isak’s hair tickled the back his neck, and maybe his right leg had kind of fallen asleep, but Even wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.  There was no parallel universe out there that he would trade this for. This was perfect.

And it was then Even knew for sure that he loved this boy lying in his arms,  _so fucking much._  Heart and soul. Maybe he would even tell Isak one day. Not today or tomorrow, because he didn't want to scare Isak and send him running for the hills, but someday. For now it was enough for Even to know that he had his own epic love story to live through. And maybe he was the Romeo in this story, the protagonist that fell hard, far too quickly and far too much, but for some reason the ending to Even's movie didn't look so tragic as Romeo's.

Normally, he tried not to think about what came next, because he never wanted to set himself up for disappointment. Back then his future had been bleak and cloudy. There hadn't been anything to live for, to look forward to.

But just now for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself a brief glimpse of his future.

And for the first time in a long time, it looked pretty fucking amazing.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

Even had thought Isak had fallen asleep again, but then suddenly Isak was wriggling, looking around and under himself under the blankets.

“Do you need something?” Even asked, amused.

“I just, uh…” Isak shifted some more. He sounded confused. “Where…where’s my phone?”

Even held back a laugh. “Oh - it's uh, in the fridge.”

There was a beat of silence as Isak processed this information.

“The fridge?” he finally asked.

“The fridge.”

 “…Why is my phone in the fridge?”

“Actually, I was hoping that you could answer that question for me. You put it there yourself this morning.”

Isak was quiet again.

“Helvete,"3 he heard a quiet mumble from the sheets after a bit.  Even tried to constrain his silent laughter.

And then, not even twenty seconds later, Even could tell by his deep breaths that Isak was finally fast asleep.

 

 

 **Nei** = no 

 **Faen** = fuck

 **Fy faen** = fucking hell

 **Takk** = thank you

 **Koselig 1** = literally means cozy, but also a feeling of being warm/comforting/simple

 **Blomkålsuppe** **2** = common Norwegian cauliflower soup

 **Helvete** **3**  = goddammit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been kinda nervous about this one, mainly because I'm writing from Even's POV for the first time and he's a little harder to write for than Isak, because he's such an amazingly intricate character, and I wanted to get him just right. And I don't think I exactly did but maybe I'll get the hang of it later lol. But I hope I did okay for now, and I hope you all like it, please let me know what you guys think!


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